Around the World in a Bad Mood! (18 page)

I
'VE ACCUMULATED A LOT
of miles under my belt and now consider myself an expert when it comes to air travel. I've also consulted with other flight attendants in preparing this list of travel tips that will help make your journey more bearable:

T
IPS FOR THE
A
IRPLANE

1. Lower your expectations. There is nothing glamorous or exciting about air travel. Expect the worst and hope for the best.

2. Try to book nonstop flights. If you do have to make a connection, allow plenty of time. More often than not flights are late, and even if yours is only a few minutes late, airports are so huge nowadays it can take thirty minutes to deplane and walk to your next departure gate. Give yourself extra time by creating a realistic connection. I would say at least three days—that way you don't have to rush.

3. Pack
one
carry-on bag that includes a bottle of water; something to eat, such as an apple, a bagel, or a candy bar; something to read; any medicines you may need; a toothbrush; a pen and paper; and any important documents that you don't want to lose. If you're into electronic gadgets, you should also bring your cell phone, Walkman, and laptop on board with you—the rest of your belongings should be
checked
! There is not enough room on airplanes for everyone to bring two or three pieces of carry-on baggage. The rule should be one bag per person. The airlines are partly to blame for this one. Some airlines have one policy while others have another policy, so it's confusing. But something must be done because
the carry-on baggage situation is out of control!
People have boarded with hockey sticks, golf clubs, and copy machines. One man brought on the biggest box I've ever seen in my life and then asked me to help him stow it. When I asked him what was in it, he replied, “A toilet.” He didn't think I was too funny when I informed him that we had four toilets on board that he was welcome to use. Am I crazy here or is trying to fit a toilet in the overhead bin a little much? If you don't trust the airlines to get your baggage to your final destination in one piece, ship it!

4. Things will go wrong; you can count on it. Your flight could be late, you could end up in a center seat, first class might be full, you might not get the meal of your choice, you might not get a meal, the flight attendant will possibly be in a bad mood, there might not be any good magazines on board, they might not hold your connecting flight for you, there could be a long line at the ticket counter. Don't take these things personally, and try not to get emotional about it! Yes, it sucks . . . big time. But look around you—everyone else is suffering, too. The airlines are not trying to deliberately ruin your life, although it may seem that way. I've had the same thought a number of times myself, but they're really not out to get you. In any event crying, cursing, barking, biting, and throwing things will not improve matters. I recommend yoga or a good muscle relaxant.

5. It's time for boarding. Try to go when they call your row number and not before. Not everyone can be seated in rows 23–35. Nor does everyone need special assistance or a little extra time for boarding the aircraft. Your seat will still be there and since you have checked all your bags you don't need to worry about overhead-bin space anymore.

6. You've made it onto the plane and located your seat. Now sit down in it! Lingering in the aisle only makes it more difficult for everyone else to board the aircraft. Also, if you think you might want a pillow and blanket during the flight, this is the opportune time to secure one for yourself. If you wait until everyone else comes on and fills up the bins with their bags, then all the pillows and blankets will be hidden behind the bags. It will be very difficult to find one later.

7. OK, when the captain or flight attendants make a request, please honor it. These requests are usually for your safety or for the safety of those around you. It isn't going to kill you to fasten your seat belt, turn off your laptop, put away your cell phone, or remain seated until the aircraft comes to a complete stop. Also, I'm sure you have seen it a million and one times, but as a courtesy to the flight attendants, could you put down your newspaper and at least
pretend
to be paying attention to the safety demonstration? And if you're talking, could you stop for two minutes? Maybe you aren't interested, but others seated near you might be. You may want to take a gander at the emergency placard located in the seat pocket in front of you. It takes two seconds and it might help you out in an emergency.

T
IPS FOR THE
A
IRPORT

1. Airports are crowded and massive. Fortunately, most of them now have what are known as “moving walkways.” Here, ladies and gentlemen, is the universal procedure with these devices: If you're going to just stand there and watch the world go by, stand on the
right
. The
left
side is for the rest of us who are in a hurry, and need to pass. I repeat, if you are going to stand there like a bumbling idiot, stand on the
right side.

2. When you're claiming your baggage—that is, if you took my kind advice and checked it—be sure you get your own bag. Many bags look alike. I speak from personal experience; I once took the wrong bag to my hotel room. Fortunately, it belonged to another crew member and we were able to straighten it out promptly—disaster averted. I also was on board when a passenger took a flight attendant's bag off the airplane in San Francisco. When the flight attendant realized she had someone else's bag (she figured it out by looking at the luggage tag on the outside of the bag), she correctly assumed this person had her bag. With a little help from the agent and the computer she was able to ascertain the woman's travel itinerary. She discovered the passenger was bound for Vietnam, so the poor flight attendant had to rush over to international departures and try to straighten out the mess with the passenger. And if you think that's easy, try taking a bag away from an old lady who does not speak a word of English and won't let go of her bag. All's well that ends well, though, and Suzy Flight Attendant was able to retrieve her bag and return the other bag to its rightful owner.

3. Stay out of the way of the electric cart. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about—the cart that's driven through the airport, incessantly beeping, pushing weary travelers to the edge of their sanity. Sometimes I think it has the same effect on the driver, because there have been instances when the cart has run down innocent bystanders. Traveler beware!

T
IPS FOR THE
H
OTEL

You have finally arrived and you are now on the shuttle van to your hotel.

1. Wear your seat belt.

2. Tip the driver.

3. When you get to your room, don't use the telephone. This is one of those moments in life when a cell phone is a terrific thing. Hotel-room phones are a rip-off! What is a connection fee anyway?

4. Notice where the emergency exits are. One time Bitsy was on a layover and there was a fire in the middle of the night. The place was filled with smoke and she couldn't find her way in the hall. Instead she went to her window and crawled out onto her third-floor balcony, and from there a fireman helped her down. However, many hotel-room windows do not open, so that's not always an option. (And yes, she still had to work her flight the next day.)

5. If you're inclined to sit on that ugly comforter, make sure you're wearing sweatpants. Those things are filthy. I always recommend taking the thing off completely, or at least folding it over, so you can sit on the sheets. I know of someone who contracted a raging case of crabs and lice. He believes it was from the comforter—or else someone named Helmut. In any case, even though they say that they thoroughly clean hotel rooms, I always assume they're filthy. Better safe than sorry. I also wear thongs on my feet in the shower and I
never
take a bath in a layover hotel.

I hope you find these helpful and enlightening. . . . Bon voyage!

A
S I MENTIONED EARLIER,
after Bitsy left there was a void in my life, and I wanted to fill it by concentrating on my theatrical career. In theory this was a good plan, but in reality it wasn't that easy because I didn't really have a theatrical career! I was taking classes, going on auditions, and getting the occasional job here and there, but it wasn't very lucrative. Nor was it very satisfying. Then one night after a particularly rotten trip, I hit rock bottom. I was fed up with the fact that I wasn't getting any acting jobs and the airline job—no, the airline industry—seemed to be getting worse all the way around (I think this might have been the summer they let kids fly free). I didn't know how I was going to pull out of my bad mood. Maybe Bitsy was right, maybe it was time to throw in the towel and move back home. I was writing about my dilemma in my journal when all of a sudden, it hit me: This job is a treasure trove of material for a comedy, or maybe a tragedy! I could write my own play.

It was then that I decided I wasn't going to sit back and wait for Hollyweird or Broadway to discover me. I was going to go out and create my own thing. I decided to write my own show about my life as a flight attendant. Whenever I tell people I'm a flight attendant, they always ask a million questions. People must be interested in the subject! If no one would hire me as an actress, I'd hire myself! I didn't quite know what form it would take, but one thing was for sure . . . I was going to be the star. And so what if it was a flop? It couldn't be any worse than any other flop I had been in or had seen elsewhere. At least this would be
my
flop.

I put down my bottle of Jack Daniel's and started writing right then and there. And that's when my musical revue,
Around the World in a Bad Mood,
was born. I looked through my journal and came up with four little vignettes that very night. The next day on the airplane I started writing down ideas about everything I did and about every person on the plane. Suddenly all my horrible experiences had value and meaning! I continued working on it and within three months I had finished a script for a little one-hour show. I had some friends read it, which took a lot of courage, but they actually liked it. I began telling people about it and tried to assemble a team. I'd need a musical director, a director, actors, and a theater. How the hell was this going to all come together? I started by asking people I knew if they wanted to be part of my little venture: “Hey, I've written this little cabaret show about my job as a flight attendant and the airline industry. I'm trying to put it all together and I need

a
____________________________________________________________

(fill in the blank).

Are you interested? I don't have a budget, but I'll be able to pay you something. What do you think?”

Here are some people's initial responses:

“A show about flight attendants? Who is interested in that?”

“No dough, no go!”

“No, I don't think so. I'm busy until 2005 with my own projects.”

“No.”

“I didn't know you could write.”

“No.”

“I'd have to read it first.”

“No.”

And then finally, finally, finally, I heard someone say: “Yes, I'd love to be part of it. . . . When do we start?”

That was all I needed. I said “screw you” to all the people who said “NO” and went ahead and said “welcome aboard” to all those who said “yes.” It went fast from there. I was so lucky to find all these talented people who were willing to take a chance and also have some fun. We rehearsed all summer, while I continued to fly, all the while accumulating new material.

The opening night was in September 1998, and it was fast approaching. I was passing out flyers like a crazy woman, writing press releases, and making a million phone calls a day to let people know about the show. And what really surprised me was how responsive people were to the idea—and not just airline personnel. It seemed that everyone had an airline horror story and thought the show sounded like fun. . . . Fun? Of course, I had very little money to actually pay people anything, so I ended up having to do a lot of the work myself, like writing lyrics for songs. I'd never done anything like that in my life, but Michael, my composer and musical director, said that I could probably do it. “Why don't you try?” he said. So I went home and tried. The first thing that came to mind was the safety demonstration that's done on every flight. I have that thing memorized, so just for the hell of it I tried to make it rhyme. Then I tried to make it funny. It was going pretty well until Michael told me it also had to fit into the music he had written, so back to square one. Finally, after a lot of blood, sweat, and tears, we came up with “The Safety Demo Shuffle.”

I also did all the press work myself because I was in no position to hire a press agent. Fortunately, I was better at this type of work than I was at writing lyrics. I just wrote letters to all the newspapers and waited for them to get back to me. “Rene, don't hold your breath on these publications getting back to you,” I was told. Or, “Don't be disappointed if you don't hear anything for a while. Like forever.” But I figured, what the hell, it took five minutes to write the letter, so what if they throw it away. There's also the possibility that they might read the letter and be interested in the show. I knew I was on to something when the
Wall Street Journal
called and said they wanted to do a piece about it. They were the first of several newspapers to express interest and/or write a review.

Getting a show—any show—ready is a nerve-racking experience, but this just about put me over the edge. There were a lot of last minute changes and things to remember, and then there was this little voice inside that kept screaming, “You're going to FAIL!”

And then I would shout back, “I'm only going to do four shows and then I'm going to give up on show business. So I don't care if I FAIL! I'm still going to TRY!”

“FAIL.”

“TRY.”

“FAIL.”

“TRY.”

“FAIL, FAIL, FAIL FAAAAAAIILLLL!!!!”

“Places!”

As soon as I walked out onto that tiny postage-stamp-size stage, everything fell into place. Sure, there were weak points and some things that were awful. But there were some good moments, too, and the basic form was strong. People were laughing, and laughing, and laughing—granted, it was a kind and generous audience, full of friends, family, and flight attendants, but we were off and running. We're still running today! I hope it keeps going because writing and performing the show has been terrific therapy and I think it's made me a better flight attendant. So, as I like to say, when life gives you lemons, make lemonade!